Page 177 of Dear Rosie

I know how much he loves this cat.

And I know he’ll be nice about it if he asks me to leave.

Butniceis somehow making it all worse.

I lift my head and force myself to face the consequences.

“Are you okay?” Nathan’s question is quiet.

And I… I don’t understand it.

“Me?” I mostly mouth the word.

He nods. “I should’ve warned you that he sometimes scarfs his food too fast and… does what he did. I’m sorry he scared you. And even if he got into the chicken, he’ll be fine.”

I stare at him. This boyfriend of mine. I don’t deserve him.

“You’re not—You don’t want me to leave?”

Nathan’s brows furrow. “What?”

I curl my fingers into Charles’s fur. “I’d understand if?—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, Rosie, I don’t want you to…” Nathan presses his lips together.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure what I’m apologizing for this time but feeling the need to do it.

“Rosie. Listen to me. Okay?”

I bite my lip and nod.

Nathan takes a big breath. “I need you to really hear me when I tell you that I don’t want you to leave. Charles doesn’t want you to leave. You’ve done nothing wrong. The chicken was an accident, and itsounds like he didn’t even have any. But even if he did, it was an accident. And you…” He shakes his head again. “You carried my cat in your damn arms straight to the emergency clinic.”

On cue, Charles stretches his neck up and licks my cheek.

Nathan’s smile is so soft. “Neither one of us wants you to leave, Rosie. And if we have our way, you’ll never go.”

I watch his features. He seems serious.

“You’re not mad?” I have to ask. Need to make sure.

He shakes his head slowly this time. “I’m not mad, Rosie. Not a bit. Not at all. I’m grateful for how you handled it.”

I watch him. Watch for clues that he’s lying. But he doesn’t seem to be.

“How’s your ankle?” He looks at me knowingly. “I know there’s no way you’d be able to carry him and use your crutches. So tell me, Pretty Rosie, how is your ankle?”

This man.

This fucking man is better than any hope I’ve ever had.

I rub my palm over my cheeks and answer him honestly. “It hurts.”

“My poor girl.” He gives me a sad smile.

Before he can say more, a loud, unmistakable rumble sounds through the phone.

My eyes widen.

---